


I Don't Smoke

by ampworks



Category: Original Work
Genre: Dissociative Identity Disorder, Gen, Other, Queerplatonic Relationships, Slice of Life, did
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-08
Updated: 2014-12-08
Packaged: 2018-02-28 15:00:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2736899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ampworks/pseuds/ampworks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>People don’t hear voices, and neither did he.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Don't Smoke

He was losing time. Rapidly. A few years back it hadn’t been so bad, and it had disappeared completely after he moved into Lorntlo, at least for a few months. It started out as forgetfulness, and then progressed to blackouts that lasted for days.

He’d go to sleep and wake up a few days later and have no idea what he had done, but no one seemed to miss him and he didn’t miss work. The voices claimed they had done everything for him while he was away, but he ignored them. He always did.

People don’t hear voices, and neither did he.

However, he couldn’t deny that the problem was growing out of control. It was hard to ignore, especially when _notes_ started appearing around his house. They weren’t his handwriting, and they were signed with the names the voices identified with. He changed his locks three times, despite the voices insisting it wouldn’t work.

Cáel sat at his kitchen table holding his head in his hands, trying to focus on the sound and smell of his coffeemaker.

**“Cáel, it’s 3AM. Go to bed.”** The frustrated voice who called himself John commanded, but as always, Cáel ignored him. People don’t hear voices, he repeated in his mind. Over and over again.

**“What does that make you, then? Us?”** John questioned, but with no response from Cáel or his thoughts, he regressed to the previous issue. **“You’re being ridiculous. Do you really think it only happens when you sleep?”**

In reality, Cáel knew it happened more often than that. He remembered the times he was driving to work and woke up in the middle of the day transcribing a trial he didn’t remember, or blacking out in the middle of conversations, or during game night. He knew it wasn’t exclusive to sleeping, but still he clung onto his sleepless solution.

_“Sweetie, just go to sleep. You’ll still be here when you wake up.”_ An elderly voice insisted, the one who preferred to be called grandma or Mrs. Kathy. Cáel stuck to the latter.

He found his body growing increasingly eager to comply with the voices wishes, so he opted for a cup of coffee. The last thing he remembers is starting towards the coffeemaker before waking up the next morning on his bed.

It was a good day, if somewhat unnerving. He didn’t blackout, he could remember what happened during the trial, while driving, where he parked, and the voices had been abnormally quiet. They occasionally reminded him to stay focused on his work and not the clock. He listened.

He decided to stop by the coffee shop when he got home, he knew it wouldn’t be busy. He barely looked around when he stepped into the refreshingly cool building. He strolled up to the counter and the cashier didn’t even wait for him to speak.

“Miley! Your boyfriend’s here.” She teased.

“Which one?” Miley joked back, dumping sugar into what Cáel assumed was her own drink. The cashier only rolled her eyes in response, and she and Miley traded places at the counter. “Hey.” Miley greeted, taking her cash and tossing it into the register along with what Cáel offered.

She turned and began pouring his drink. “Part of me was hoping you were Will.” She confessed with a chuckle.

“I’m sure.” Cáel responded along with a nod. Miley turned and handed him his coffee.

“Are you just stopping by or were you planning on staying for a while?” She asked, eyeing his work clothes.

“I was going to stay, if you weren’t busy.”

“Oh, you know we need more to do here.” She smiled as she walked around the counter. They sat where they always do and Miley stared longingly out the window. Cáel followed her gaze, taking a sip of his coffee while the voices disagreed with his taste.

“It’s weird without him here.” Miley said before taking a sip of her own (disgustingly sweet) drink. “What am I gonna do without my best buddy?” She looked back to Cáel.

“I’m sure he’ll be down to visit fairly often.” Cáel reassured. “Doubt you two can stay away from each other for long.”

“I hope so.” Miley groaned. “It’s been pretty lonely down in WD lately. All my friends are leaving me!”

“At least most of us are still in Lorntlo?” He offered. Miley sighed.

“I should move in with someone.” She laid her front half on the table dramatically. Cáel let a nervous chuckle escape his lips and looked back out the window.

_“Why don’t you let her move in with you?”_ The elderly voice questioned.           

**“Yeah, why not? Just remember to introduce her to your other roommates.”** John teased, and Cáel could almost _see_ him smirk. He turned his attention back to Miley with a shaky sigh. It certainly wasn’t the first time either of the voices had suggested telling someone else.

“You alright?” Miley noticed Cáel’s discomfort, raising her head off the table to look up at him.

“Hm? Uh, yeah. Just tired.” He offered a smile and gently wiggled his coffee cup for emphasis.

“I didn’t mean to complain if you’re having a bad day.” She sat up straight. She had lost her playful attitude and it made Cáel feel guilty.

“No, really. Today’s been a good day, actually.” He smiled, genuinely. He could actually remember what had happened and nothing could make him happier.

“That’s good.” She smiled back, and Cáel found himself glad that she didn’t press on as to why.

They finished their drinks in silence (at least Miley did), content to just be in each other’s presence. Miley stood up to get back to work and Cáel to head home.

“Oh, by the way,” Miley started before Cáel was out the door. “Can I come over after work? Or, you know… _both_ works?” She chuckled. He was about to answer before the voices piped up.

**“Go ahead. Say yes.”** John urged. Something about the tone of his voice made Cáel uneasy. He couldn’t actually see John, but he could sense some kind of grin behind his words.

_“You’re making him uncomfortable, John.”_ Mrs. Kathy chided.

“…S-sure.” Cáel stuttered before hurrying out of the cool coffee shop and into the warm air of Lorntlo.

Once at home, he decided it would be best to conceal anything strange. Such as the glasses he has but doesn’t need or the cigarettes he doesn’t smoke, and especially the notes. He decides to just throw away the cigarettes, despite John’s insisting that he didn’t.

He tossed away the notes and checked around to make sure he didn’t fail to notice any.

 

_Missed one._

_-John_

Cáel tore the note down with a scowl and went to toss it away with the others, only to find another stuck just above the trashcan. He could hear John laughing as he pulled it down too.

This game of his went on for a while, and Cáel’s patience was wearing thin.

“Paper is _expensive_!” Cáel exclaimed, perhaps a little louder than he should have.

**“So? Ask me to stop.”** John said calmly. **“I’ll buy more the next time we’re in Chesterway.”**

Cáel found himself at a loss. He didn’t want to acknowledge the voice nor let himself be told what to do, but this was getting ridiculous.

**“Or don’t.”** Cáel could almost see him shrug. **“I’m sure Miley will understand.”**

He tried to hear the sarcasm in his voice, but there was none. Cáel stood still for a long while, thinking over what to do with an eye on the clock, just to make sure.

With a sigh and the quietest voice he could muster, but still be audible, he spoke to the voice.

“Please stop.”

**“Alright. I will.”** John responded. **“But I still think it would be a good idea to tell Miley. Or Nora. Or a therapist. Whatever floats your boat.”**

_“Me too. You seem to feel very alone in this; maybe talking about it would help.”_ Mrs. Kathy suggested. Cáel, of course, dismissed this idea. He wouldn’t risk losing another friend over it.

He decided to try to relax until Miley got off work. Both works.

He got up and checked the house once more as it was nearing the hour Miley usually got off, just in case. John complained about his distrust, but why would he trust strange voices in his head?

Satisfied with his search turning up empty, he waited for Miley to arrive.

When she did, she knocked briefly before walking in, not waiting for a response.

“Hello!” She announced herself. Cáel sauntered into the kitchen to greet her, only to be met with arms wrapped around his torso instantly. Knowing Miley, this shouldn’t have surprised him. He returned the favor and wrapped his arms around her shoulders, trying to ignore the anxious feeling in the pit of his stomach.

“Tired?” Cáel questioned quietly, being gently rocked side-to-side by Miley. She responded with a small noise of affirmation. “Do you just want to cuddle, then?”

“Mhm.” She nodded and they started towards his room. The way she clung onto him made him think that if he was any stronger she might have asked him to carry her there. He paused to turn on the light once they were there but Miley grabbed his wrist and tugged him towards the bed. They crawled onto it and their limbs tangled comfortably together as they had a million times before.

“I know you’ve heard this before, but I still worry that you’re overworking yourself…” Cáel murmured after a few moments, chin resting on Miley’s head.

“’m fine.” She slurred against his clothed chest. He sighed at her stubbornness. He wouldn’t be surprised if she spent the night, he knew she hadn’t slept alone in years and without Will at Wissen Den with her, she had no one to keep her company during the nights.

Especially after that night she went missing and came back with eight fingers, and couldn’t remember leaving in the first place. Cáel thinks that may have made her needing someone else to help her sleep at night essential. He doesn’t blame her; part of him wishes he had someone to make sure he didn’t wander off and get himself hurt, too.

The voices suggestions came back to him; that he should tell her, but he couldn’t tell her. He couldn’t risk losing her over something so dumb, and especially not when she’s falling asleep in his arms.

After all, people don’t hear voices, and despite all evidence, neither did he.


End file.
